


Everything That Begins

by BigDumbBaby



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angels, Angst, Depression, M/M, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, angel au, kenhina - Freeform, more tags to be added as chapters get added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigDumbBaby/pseuds/BigDumbBaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma was once told, "people are born to search for happiness" and he thinks somewhere along the line he got lost, because now he's at a bridge ready to jump. He meets Hinata then, and surely that was the starting point in his life where Kenma realized maybe he could be someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is a big trigger warning for suicide, and issues with depression. Just warning you before you read. This will be my first chaptered fic that I'm actually serious about, and I don't know yet how many chapters it will be just yet.

You can tell who’s from the city by the way they drive. The cars are smaller, and they drive faster. Not caring how reckless they are. They whip in and out of lanes and barely slow down before turning corners. They don’t wait for pedestrians; they’ve got work to get to. Kids to get home to. Kenma watches them whizz by on the corner, waiting for a break in traffic so he can cross the street. Kenma’s never much liked the city.

Kenma doesn’t much like winter time. There are so many holidays to spend with your loved ones, to spend with people you care about. To spend with people who care about you.  It’s not like there’s not anyone who doesn’t care for him. Kuroo cares a great deal, he cares for him. But Kuroo cares too much, he’s been spoiled and now he doesn’t have any idea how to do anything for himself. He sits in his room and pities himself. He pities his entire existence, and he pities others who force themselves to tolerate him. He’d be better off gone, he thinks. He looks up at the sky.

He may dislike the cold of winter, but he’s always loved the winter sky. It’s so clear, and big. It stretches out forever, and the stars are like diamonds thrown into the vast ebony that covers the universe. The winter wind cuts into his body like glass, and he shoves his hands into his pockets before finally finding time to cross the street. Kenma’s never liked winter much, cold air always makes him sneeze.

Kenma follows the familiar streets, towards the old store on the corner of the edge of town. He crosses the bridge with water rushing from melting snow, and he passes some roadkill because drivers from the city are reckless.

It’s a small place, it’s on its last legs because it’s in a bad spot. It sits behind a gas station, and people don’t notice it, or they prefer not to. It’s falling apart, it needs a new coat of paint. The people who own it are kind, and occasionally pay for Kenma’s purchases out of the kindness of their hearts and tell him they hope they see him again.

The inside of the store is a lot nicer than the outside. They keep it clean, and they have an Icee and soda machine in the back, and a row of fridges that hold water, milk, and sodas. The only thing Kenma comes here for, though, is their coffee. It’s not that it’s exceptionally good, but it’s cheap, and it’s something that warms him from the inside out on dreary winter nights like this one. He walks in and the old man greets him with a friendly smile.

“The usual?” Kenma nods, and avoids meeting his eyes. What would happen to this shop if he disappeared? Would they remember him? Would they wonder why he stopped coming? Would the old man and his wife miss him? Would they think he found a different corner store to frequent?

Ah, he sighs. He’s making this sound like he was breaking up with them, he’s just here for coffee.

“I don’t mind making it for you this time. Why don’t you head around the back and say hello to my wife, she’ll be glad to see you. She’s in the break room, go right on in.” Kenma finds he can’t refuse, it’s not like he’s got any reason to rush back anyway.

He walks around the counter and towards the employee break room. There’s only one other employee who helps out at the shop, and Kenma’s only seen them once or twice. They don’t seem to hate working here, but they certainly don’t look like they love it either. The door creaks when he pushes it open.

Mrs. Odette looks at him and smiles warmly, embracing him in a hug that’s not too unpleasant. She’s always been overly friendly with him. Says he reminds her of her own boy. He died in the war, but oh, he’s always been quiet and kept to himself. He was smart, and had a lot to live for, and a lot left to do before God took him away from her. She doesn’t say that in a bad way, though. She doesn’t sound like she is angry at God, if he’s up there. More like, once she gets up there she’s going to scold him something good.

Kenma dislikes when she compares him to her son. Her son sounds like a good guy, her son sounded pleasant and kind and she spoke of him with love and sincerity. Her son sounded like somebody. Kenma is a nobody. He wishes he were a somebody, but there are already so many somebody’s in the world. Not everyone can be a somebody.

“It’s always nice to see you, Kozume.” She always addressed him formally, even after he told her ‘Just Kenma is fine.’ She would “have none of that.”

“Hello, Mrs.Odette.”

“How have you been, my dear?” She tucks some of his hair behind his ear and pats his shoulders in a motherly fashion.

“I’m… alright. The usual. And you?” She guides him by his elbow to a chair and lets him sit, pulling her chair up next to his.

“It’s been rather slow around here. The usual.” She smiles at him and he smiles back.

She somehow manages to take his mind off things for a while. Mr. Odette comes back with his coffee, “It’s on the house,” he tells Kenma. “Seeing you is the highlight of her day.” He kisses Mrs. Odette on her cheek and heads back out to man the counter.

Kenma doesn’t stay much longer after he’s given his coffee. Mrs. Odette doesn’t know he stopped going to college, and shoos him out when she notices the time. “Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” She tells him. His mother used to say that, too. He leaves the store, coffee in hand with a wave of his hand goodbye and a small smile.

He doesn’t turn back after he hears the door shut, he doesn’t turn back until he gets to the bridge he crossed before arriving at the corner store. He can’t see it, now, but it’s comforting to know it’s there with the warm old couple who run it. He sits and lets his legs dangle over the edge of the bridge and rests his forearms on the ledge that kids stand on to peer over the railing and into the water. He takes a sip of his coffee, quickly cooling, and rests his head on the stone.

The water isn’t really all that deep in the summer, he remembers Kuroo dragging him to play in it during the summer. It used to seem deeper to him because he’s always been small. It came up to above his head, and he liked to sit under the water sometimes and watch his hair web out around his head. Kenma doesn’t much like summer either, but he prefers the river in summer. It was still, and the flow of it could barely carry a twig downstream. It was peaceful. This river has given him some good memories. There was that time Kuroo thought it would be fun to bring a kickboard with them and float down the river, see where it ends. Kuroo said it ended in Egypt, because all rivers were connected to the Nile River. Kenma disagreed with him at the time, but Kuroo shook it off.

“Once we’re in Egypt maybe we can build a new pyramid.” Kuroo was determined, but it only lasted about a half hour. The current took them maybe half a mile down the road before they both got bored and climbed out of the water. Kuroo said he was gonna surf. He tried standing on the board in the water, but fell on a rock in the water and jumped up and hopped around cursing the damn thing. Kenma remembers laughing hardest he ever has then, it was a happy moment. He chuckles now with a sad smile on his face, as he downs the last of his coffee. He’s never much liked summer, but summer holds his fondest memories.

He crumples the cardboard cup and shoves it into his pocket. He closes his eyes and lets the cool wind whip his hair in circles around his face. When he opens his eyes he looks up at the stars. He remembers his mom used to tell him stories about them. She would make up different stories for each star he pointed out. _“That star is closest to the moon because she loves her. They loved each other so much, they couldn’t stand being separated. Did you know the sky is an ocean, just like the water on Earth? He moon used her lunar powers so that the ocean of the sky puller her lover closer to her. Now they spend each night watching over the Earth.”_  

His favorite story was the one about the first star. _“Well, that’s daddy of course.”_ She would say, like it was matter of fact. _“Daddy comes out first because he wants to make sure he gets to say goodnight to you, and he watches over you while you sleep.”_ It was a silly story, but it brought comfort to him knowing his dad was still with him. He remembers telling the story to Kuroo once and Kuroo demanded to know how she knew it was his dad.

_“Because when people die, and people remember them, they never_ really _leave us. Their souls turn into stars so they can watch over their families and loved ones. So that they will always be with us.”_ Kuroo argued that his mom said they lived on in people’s hearts, that’s where his dad is.

_“Oh, of course_.” She nodded and crossed her arms, _“Everyone lives on in our hearts in memories, but they live with others up in the night sky, too. Sometimes, it gets lonely up there, the sky is big so Kenma’s daddy lives with his Grandma, and his aunt, and even me one day.”_  Kuroo had thought it over for a while before nodding.

_“Is my daddy up there, too?”_ Kuroo had lost his dad before Kenma had lost his, but they both got over it together. Kuroo has always been a fighter, he’s always moving on, living like he was born to search for happiness.

_“Yes, of course. See right there?”_ She knelt down so she could show Kuroo from his point of view. _“See that one, right next to Kenma’s daddy? That’s your papa! He told me yesterday that he and my husband got drunk!”_ Kuroo giggled. And waved at the star, going on about how he has to tell his mom, she’ll be so happy. She’ll be so, very happy.

Looking up at the sky, Kenma wonders if his mom is up there now. Is she next to dad? Are they having the time of their life? Are they proud of who he is now? Or are they sorely disappointed? Maybe they won’t meet him in the night sky when he gets up there, because they are embarrassed to have a son who thinks of his worth equal to nothing, and wishes to die. He bites his lip and hangs his head. He wishes he were a somebody. For his moms sake.

Someone sits down next to Kenma, but he can’t look up. He’s focusing on the river, and how fast it’s moving now. It’s always deeper in the winter, so if he jumps, maybe he’ll drown. He’s heard drowning is the most painful way to go. They say it burns and stings, and he’s heard of survivors who, while drowning, wished they would just die to stop the pain. Maybe he’ll hit his head on the same rock Kuroo fell on and it’ll knock him out before he feels anything. 

“What’s your name?” Kenma’s thought are interrupted by the person who sat down next to him, he forgot he was there. He looks at Kenma with kind, smiling eyes. He’s got a scarf covering his face up to his nose, and a hat with little penguins sitting on his head. He somehow gives off a light, and Kenma thinks if he looked behind him, his shadow would be stretching out into infinity. He feels warm, like home. It reminds him of his mom.

“Are you alright?” He asks again, leaning in closer, and Kenma realizes he’s been staring. He quickly turns his gaze back to the water and nods.

The guy smiles and doesn’t take his eyes off him. “How old are you?”                                               

“19…” Kenma answers softly.

“So you’re an adult, huh.”

Kenma doesn’t answer. He’s not much of an adult, if he is one.

“Did you come here to die?”

Kenma stiffens, and his eyes widen. He can’t look at the stranger beside him, but he feels if he doesn’t answer, he’ll answer for Kenma. He nods and hangs his head, letting his hair curtain in his face.

“Me too.” He kicks his legs out from under him and swings them over the edge of the bridge. “Life’s hard.”

Kenma doesn’t find an answer, so he just nods again.

“Why do you want to die?” Kenma shrinks into himself, and is stuck between wanting to scoot away from this guy, and pressing in against him.

“Why do you want to die?” Kenma retaliates.

“Hmm. There are plenty of reasons I suppose.” He laughs and flicks a pebble down into the water. He seems all too chipper while talking about death.

“You…” Kenma opens his mouth before he realizes he’s saying anything, “You shouldn’t die.” He mentally knocks his head against the wall, this guy’s a stranger, no telling how he’ll react to being told something like that from another stranger. One who, ironically, is planning to kill himself as well.

He doesn’t scowl or yell though. In fact, he chuckles, and laughs and presses his shoulder against Kenma’s.

“Well,” he begins and sits up straight again, “If you don’t die tonight, I won’t.” Kenma looks at him, and his eyes gleam with a fiery orange before glazing brown. It sends electric shivers down Kenma’s spine, and he thinks for a minute.

What really happens when you die? Do you cease to exist? Or maybe there was some truth to what his mother was saying, maybe he will live as a star. If his parents don’t want him back, he could watch over Kuroo for once. Ah, Kuroo. Would he be sad Kenma was gone? Relieved? Would he mourn Kenma, and for how long? Would he forget about him entirely, maybe he will be glad he doesn’t have to take care of someone so troublesome. What about Mr. and Mrs. Odette? Do many people buy their coffee? What would happen to everything he’s got in his house? Would someone take care of his mother’s grave? He remembers back to high school, and playing with his team. He remembers Kai and Taketora, and he remembers Fukunaga. He always got along well with him, when they were together he never talked much, but he always brought Kenma a cheap apple pie flavored treat from a drugstore. He had wanted to own a game that Kenma owned. He wonders if he ever got to play it through.

“Well?” He looks at Kenma with expectant eyes.

“I… I have things I need to take care of first. Before I leave.”

“I know.” The stranger nods and crosses his arms, like he’s content. “You should never leave with unfinished business.”

Kenma feels a sort of empty that he can’t quite describe as sad. Maybe bittersweet. Maybe all this reminiscing has left him feeling worn out. He’s too tired to die.

“Now go home and sleep. I’ll see you later.” Kenma looks over at him again to thank him, but he’s gone. The spot beside him is empty, and he’s not walking down the street, and he’s not across the street either. He wonders, “oh… maybe he jumped.” But there is no splash. He stands up, dazed and confused and marches straight home.

All he does before getting into bed is pull his jeans off and brush his teeth. He doesn’t mind to bother with a shower or dinner, or even a drink before closing his eyes. Neither sad nor tired, Kenma simply slept wondering of what’s to come, and what has been.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma wakes to Kuroo in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: doesn't reread this  
> me: doesnt edit this in any way shape or form  
> me: publishes it anyway
> 
> a bit more dialogue than description in this chapter, for various reasons.

Kenma wakes up to a sliver of light streaming in through uneven and bent shades covering his window shining on his face. Were those always so dusty? There’re birds chirping in the tree his mom planted when he was born outside his window, they’re being awfully noisy. Who told birds it was alright to start screaming at each other so early.

He rolls over, feeling groggy and heavy, aiming to get more sleep. He can still barely keep his eyes open, but a voice that rivals his exhausted state groans beside him. Kenma rubs one of his eyes with a fisted hand and peeks at the fuzzy lump of blankets beside him. Kuroo’s got a few thin blankets covering his lower half, and his head pressed in between two pillows. Kenma smiles thinly, thinking back and wondering how that weird habit had even started. He finds comfort in knowing that some parts of him hadn’t changed at all. Kenma has known Kuroo near his whole life, and he’s watched him grow and change as a person. He’s gotten taller, he’s gotten kinder, he’s come to be a new person entirely while still maintaining his “Kuroo” self.

Kenma often finds himself comparing himself to Kuroo. It’s not like Kuroo himself is someone Kenma wants to be, but he wishes he could definitely be like him. He’s smart, and sociable, and always seems to know what to say and when to say it. He looks up to Kuroo, and Kenma knows a number of other people do as well. 

Kenma finds himself simmering in guilt as Kuroo starts to stir awake. He and Kuroo have always had a special fondness for each other, drawing one to the other. When they were younger, Kuroo often said that they were gonna live together, and travel the world. One of those is partially true. Kuroo treats Kenma’s space as his own, and likewise, expects Kenma to treat his place as so. Kuroo usually just stalks into Kenma’s home and settles in. He always seems to be here. But Kenma can appreciate that about Kuroo, he’s always there. He’s always there.

Kuroo turns to the side, slipping his hand under the covers to scratch his stomach before opening an eye and sitting up onto his knees slowly. He stretches, letting a few obnoxiously loud groans slip past his lips before turning a sour looking face towards Kenma. Kenma’s stomach drops, remembering what he sent to Kuroo last night, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Kuroo takes note of the panic in Kenma’s eyes, and looks the other direction, scratching the back of his neck and taking a small breath. “Mornin’.”

“Hey.” Kenma sits up, staring straight ahead, taking pains to avoid looking at Kuroo.

“How… how’re you doing?” Kuroo asks tentatively, testing the waters. He turns, sitting on his butt next to Kenma.

Kenma shrugs, folding his hands together across his lap. “A little tired. Kinda thirsty.”

“Kenma.”

He shrinks at Kuroo’s stiff tone, because he only uses it when he’s serious, worried, or scared, and having it directed at him makes him feel smaller. Kuroo hangs his head, balancing his elbows on his knees.

“Kenma, I was worried. What the hell, man?” Kuroo’s voice is quiet still, he sounds choked, conflicted at wanting to grab Kenma by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, and hugging him close, telling him it’s gonna be alright, he’s always there for him.

“Kuroo, I’m-”

“Kuroo, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can really do this anymore. Bye.”  Kuroo mocks Kenma’s voice when he says that, and Kenma bites his lip, looking down, remembering how little he put into his note to Kuroo. He knew he would understand, and he knew it would be immediate. He didn’t think of worrying him. He thinks maybe things would be easier if Kuroo never cared for him.

“I’m really-”

“Kenma!” Kuroo’s voice nearly booms and it echoes off the walls and seems to shake Kenma, which doesn’t help with the nausea in his stomach. He looks at him, and Kenma looks back with wide eyes. There are tears in Kuroo’s eyes and he looks angry, like he’s not trying to hide how angry he looks either. “I searched for you! I searched for so long! I looked everywhere!”

Kenma’s eyes fill now, and his throat feels stuck, and even if he tried to speak right now, nothing would come out except a choked sob. _Sorry. I’m really sorry_. All Kenma can think is _sorry_. He knows the bond between him and Kuroo is strong, but even the strongest of them can shatter when a crack appears and Kenma never wants to be the crack that shatters it. He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes from Kuroo’s. When Kuroo cries it’s because a worst case scenario reared its head on its ass and looked him in the face.

Kuroo lets the tears spill freely down his cheeks while Kenma struggles to hold back, he feels he doesn’t have a right to be upset, he doesn’t have a _right_ to cry right now. 

“I was…” Kuroo chokes back a cry, and balls his hands into fists on the blankets, “I was so worried… You were gone. I couldn’t find you, Kenma.”

_Sorry._

“I called you so many times, you didn’t answer. I sent you texts, and I called you, and I kept calling you, then I thought ‘what if he blocked me’ so I even got Tsukki involved, and I begged him to call you. You didn’t pick up for him either and I was so scared, Kenma, I was so scared…”

Kenma still can’t say anything, he just waits for Kuroo to finish. He supposes he doesn’t really have anything to say, either way. He wishes he could shrug it off with a sarcastic comment like usual, _‘Come on, Kuroo. A little death never killed anyone._ ’ But he knows now’s not the time, and all he can come up with is _‘Sorry.’_

“I checked here first but you weren’t here, so I looked out back, and down the street, and at all the parks we used to hang out at. I even checked up trees, Kenma. What if you had... right in your own neighborhood…” Kuroo’s voice tapers off, and at this Kenma finally let’s himself cry, and he finds he won’t be able to stop soon. He feels so stupid and selfish right now, he has no right to be crying in front of Kuroo like this. He has no _right_.

“And then when I was at a loss, I came back here again, because you know “ _What if.”_ Or “ _Just in case_.” And sure enough there you are, sleeping soundly like nothing even fucking _happened?_ ”

Kuroo bites his lip, looking down. “I knew you had issues with depression, and have for a while, but I’ve kept quiet about it because I know you hate to be confronted like this but… like- I didn’t know it was so bad, Kenma?”

“I’m sorry, Kuroo… I-I’m…” His body shakes with sobs as he tries to calm down enough to just apologize properly, that’s all he can do right now. _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Kuroo_. He can’t say it.

“Fuck!” Kuroo angrily wipes the backs of his hands against his eyes. He sits for a minute with his hands pressed against his face, taking in short breathes. When he looks back at Kenma, he looks calmer, almost sorry for getting mad and this makes Kenma cry harder. Kuroo has no reason to be sorry.

Kuroo slings an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and pulls his head against his chest. Kenma wraps his arms loosely around Kuroo’s middle crying against his shirt, and he can hear Kuroo sniffling a few times, trying to hold back for Kenma’s sake. Always for Kenma’s sake. ‘Some things would be easier if no one cared for him.’ Kenma feels stupid for thinking that. What the hell was he thinking, he would’ve been alone his whole life. He’s so _stupid_. Kuroo’s always been there and always will be.

The thought makes Kenma force back yet another sob, clutching Kuroo’s shirt in a tight fist. Kuroo runs his hand down Kenma’s back, and smooth’s his hair down in any attempt at getting Kenma to calm down before he makes himself sick. Kenma’s never been much of a crier, so when he does it stresses Kuroo out, and Kenma knows that. He forces himself to stop, hiccupping a few times before Kuroo gently pries away from Kenma, wiping his hand across his face again and takes one of the blankets and wipes Kenma’s face.

“Gross.” Kenma forces a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little bit but as always, Kuroo is way ahead of him and throws the blanket on top of Kenma’s head.

“There’s always so much snot when you cry, might as well just throw that out now.”

“It’s a perfectly good blanket, Kuroo.” Kenma pulls it off his head, and opens the dresser drawer next to his bed and pulls out a ponytail and grabs his phone off the top. He drops both in his lap as he gathers his hair into a fist to tie at the back of his head.

“Well I won’t use it again.” Kuroo climbs across Kenma and stands, stretching again, and grabs the phone from Kenma’s lap. “Let me call Tsukki real quick and just let him know everything’s alright. My phone’s dead. Lend me a charger, by the way.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything while Kuroo pulls on a pair of pants and unlocks his phone. “Jeez, you didn’t even look at anything did you.”

“I left my phone here. Sorry.” Kenma mumbles, feeling a bit small.

“You always have your phone with you, why stop now?” Kuroo flicks through the many messages on his phone before deleting them all and dialing Tsukishima’s number.

“Do you want me to make breakfast or do you want to eat something out?”

“I don’t have any food here, let’s eat out. I have some money.”

“I’ll pay.” Kuroo presses the phone to his ear and walks out of the room before Kenma has a chance to argue. He feels tired again, and weighed down. But better. He stands up, brushing a few stray hairs behind his ear and pulling on a pair of sweats he’s owned since high school and a new t-shirt that didn’t smell of sweat and stale night air.

He walks out of his room, feeling empty without his phone at hand and sits at the table in front of Kuroo, who was still on _his_ phone with Tsukishima. He’s always got this disgustingly sweet smile playing on his face whenever he talks to Tsukishima, be it on the phone or in person. It always betrays the cool and collected air that surrounds him. It makes Kenma want to gag a little bit. He’s so lovey-dovey, it nearly borders on being cliché.

And it’s not that Kenma dislikes Tsukishima at all, in fact if he had to choose between like and dislike, Kenma would say he likes Tsukishima a lot. He’s calm and usually thinks things through, but he’s also got a crass sense of humor that Kenma can appreciate. Yea, if Kenma were to pick someone for Kuroo, Tsukishima definitely seems to fit him. He respects the closeness that he and Kuroo share, and understands it’s nothing to get too jealous over. It’s just their thing, and Tsukishima understands that.

They’re a little bit of an odd couple, and they’re both a bit hot –headed when it comes to certain subjects and topics, but they always know each other’s thoughts and feelings somehow, and Kenma is thankful for that, because sometimes he looks at Kuroo and wonders how an enigma of a person is his best friend.

“Okay babe, Kenma’s come out of his nest and he looks hungry so we’re gonna hang out for a while.” Theres a short pause on Kuroo’s end.

“Yea, it’s alright over here, but he really wants to apologize to you-” Kenma shakes his head, trying to cut Kuroo off right there. “So do you wanna come over for lunch? I want to order pizza. It’s been a long night and I’m not interested in cooking.” Kenma rolls his eyes into the back of his head, leaning back against the chair.

“Oh, Tsukki, even if you beg I don’t think I could bring myself to cook very well today.” Kuroo fakes a smile and presses a hand to his chest.

“I know he didn’t say anything resembling begging for your cooking.” Kenma leans in and whispers to Kuroo, who frowns and turns around. Kenma hears Tsukishima tell Kuroo to ‘Shut the fuck up.’ Before Kuroo apologizes with a snort and sets plans for Tsukishima to come to Kenma’s house at about three. He hangs up with a sappy ‘I love you!’ before Tsukishima clicks off without saying anything.

Kuroo clicks his tongue, looking at Kenma’s phone in distaste, like it was at fault for that. “Stingy.” 

He turns back to Kenma though with a content, happy smile on his face. "Tsukki's coming over!"

“You’re so lame.” Kenma snatches his phone from Kuroo and checks the time. They both slept in late, it’s nearly one in the afternoon.

“ _I’m_ lame?” Kuroo scoffs. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Kuroo, shut up.”

Kenma stands, grabbing his charger from the socket by the couch and tossing it to Kuroo.

“Is your phone charged enough to get to the store and back?”  Kuroo plugs his phone in and sets in on the counter. Kenma nods and tucks another stray hair behind his ear.

“Yea, but you wanna go now?”

“Yea, why not? Unless you wanted some coffee first.” Kuroo straightens his clothes out and smooth’s his hair down, which didn’t really fix anything.

“Yea, I do, but I don’t have any coffee here.”

“Go grocery shopping more often, Kenma!” Kuroo scolds, looking at his reflection in Kenma’s toaster, still trying to smooth his hair down.

“Would you like to borrow a _comb_ and maybe some hairspray?”

“Yes, but at this point it feels like losing to comb my hair to get it down.”

“Kuroo, do you not comb your hair?”

“I _brush_ it.” He gives Kenma a pouted look, before quietly mumbling under his breath “Sometimes.”

Kenma shakes his head, finding it unbelievable this man has been in a healthy relationship with someone who puts up with that mop on his head for over three years. He makes his way towards his front door, looking for the shoes he kicked off the night before. Kuroo follows close behind, not bothering to tie his shoes properly and just slips them on.

“I can’t believe you’re nagging _me_ for my hair when all you’ve done with yours is tie it up.”

“I can’t believe my hair looks at least half ways decent.”

“You know what, Kenma? I’ll fight you. I’ll fight you right now.”

“Are we taking your car?” Kenma ignores Kuroo entirely, and grabs a sweatshirt that was lying on the couch and slips it over his head, shoving his house keys and phone into the pockets.

“No, we’ll walk. So put on more than that sweatshirt.”

“Don’t wanna. Just drive.”

“No.”

“Then go yourself if you wanna walk so badly.” Kenma kicks Kuroo’s leg for good measure.

“C’mon, I’ll buy you coffee from that old store you like and a snack.”

“I want a box of donuts.”

“Okay, I was thinking something more along the lines of a bag of chips or a chocolate bar.” Kuroo stands and grabs Kenma’s light jacket from the coat rack and hands it to him, expecting him to put it on over his sweatshirt.

“Okay, mom.” Kenma shrugs it on and opens the door while Kuroo does a final pat down of his hair and clothes and steps out. Finally deciding to give up, he slings his arm over Kenma’s shoulders before sauntering down the stairs with him.

“Should we buy some sodas for dinner, too?” Kuroo slips his hand into his pocket, still hanging onto Kenma. He tries shrugging him off, but Kuroo stays put and Kenma feels guilt wash over him again, because he’s probably clinging to him like this out of worry from last night. He knows Kuroo, and he knows Kuroo will be extra watchful over him from now on.

As if he knew he was thinking about it, Kuroo speaks up. “Do you want to see someone for it?”

Kenma shrugs, turning Kuroo in the correct direction of the corner store as they wait for a light to turn. “Dunno. Thought about it but, I’m… I don’t know.”

“It’s just… you don’t ever really talk about things. To me, at least. So I assume you haven’t really vented to anyone else either.”

“Correct as usual, Mr. Tetsurou.” Kenma starts walking across the street, and Kuroo smiles a bit.

“Why haven’t you gone, then?”

“Money, I guess. I just don’t really know much about it, and I’ve never really been one to ‘talk it out’ with someone else, much less a stranger who hardly knows me.”

“What if I paid for it?”

Kenma stops for a minute, thinking it over. Kuroo had found himself a stable, well-paying job in entertainment almost immediately after his graduation from high school. He wasn’t anything huge, but he was well enough known that a few people had asked for his autograph and a picture or two while they were out and about. He lives happily, and comfortably. Comfortably enough to always buy Kenma what he needs when he’s especially low on funds.

“Don’t think of it as me spoiling you or anything, because I know that’s what you’re thinking. That’s not it at all. I’m genuinely worried, Kenma. If you think it might help, I want to do what I can to make it happen. I just don’t like seeing you this way if there's something that can be done to at least _help_. Even the littlest bit.”

Kenma shrinks a little, and Kuroo lets his arm fall from around Kenma, knowing he might be pushing it if he stuck so close while talking about something so personal.

“At least think about it? And understand that if I pay for it, I’m going to do it for my own benefit, like a selfishly _selfish_ person.” Kenma knows that’s a joke and a lie, because Kuroo is doing it for him. But Kuroo knows if he let him do it on those terms, Kenma would live with the guilt of it. Kuroo always knows. He sighs a little, and rubs his hands together to warm the up a little.

“I’ll think about it.” Kuroo smiles,content with just that for now, and bumps Kenma’s hip with his, walking ahead a few steps.

“Thanks, Kenma. Love you.”

“Kuroo, don’t be gross.”

“It’s not gross! I say it to Tsukki all the time.” _Yea, that’s gross, Kuroo._ Damn lovebirds.

“How are you guys anyway? You and Tsukishima?”

Kuroo’s face lights up and he grins at Kenma, slowing back down to his pace and Kenma nearly rolls his eyes at the stupid question he just asked because now he was gonna have to finish the walk to the store through Kuroo’s bragging about “how cute Tsukki is”, and how much he loves him and how when they eat dinner together, Kuroo always sits next to him so he can hold his hand.  And he still hasn’t had his morning coffee yet.

Kenma sighs, almost blocking Kuroo out, and focuses on the sky. It’s pretty clear, but there are a few heavy clouds in the distance and Kenma suddenly remembers how tired his eyes are when the sun glints into them. His feet seem to carry him down the familiar path without much thought, all but ignoring the bridge he and his childhood friend used to play under.

He feels light, somehow, feels like he could take on the day that lies in front of him with no setbacks. He asks Kuroo when they’re gonna order the pizza, mostly to shut him up- he can take on the day, but too much of this and he's gonna get a migraine. He can't imagine feeling that way, but Kuroo seems to be happy, so he's happy.- and partly because he was starving. Says he’ll do it when they get back, the pizza place knows his number and sometimes he’ll get discounts for being such a good customer. Kenma says that’s just because he’s awful at managing his time well enough to eat properly. Kuroo says he’s one to talk. Kenma rolls his eyes before yawning and swallowing dryly.

 

Crying takes a lot out of you, it seems.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: AGGRESSIVELY SWEATS BECAUSE I DIDN'T EDIT THIS AND IS PROBABLY REGRETTING IT.  
> me: SWEATS EVEN MORE BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS A LOT LONGER THAN THE FIRST ONE
> 
> anyway, Hinata will be formally introduced in the next chapter, I'm trying to set the pacing a bit differently than I normally do so sorry if it seems slow


	3. Updates

I've gotten 2 different msgs on my imagines blog asking if I was still working on this fic, and asking if I was dropping it or forgot abt it

No!!!! I know it's here and I'm planning for it little by little!!!!!!! This has just been a very hectic few months and I'm not getting as much done as I would like, but school finishes for me in a few days and after sleeping off all my depression and anxiety from finals I'll probably get right back into this!!! I want to have it updated once every week or two but we'll see how things play out!!!!! 

I'm glad the two of you who asked liked this enough to wonder whether it will update still !!!!!!!!! It will soon, probably next month!!!!!! 

Thanks to those of u who have read this up to this point, if you're still looking for more, there definitely will be!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean no one wants to read this anymore?

Maybe it’s just because Kuroo’s here, and his shoulders don’t feel so heavy anymore, but Kenma decides maybe he doesn’t all that much hate winter during the daytime. 

Maybe he’s just in an alright mood, which in itself is unfamiliar and by his standards strange, but Kenma finds appreciation in the freshness winter days offer.  It seems to match Kuroo’s mood perfectly, though. They get to the corner store and he buys Kenma a coffee that he insisted on paying for, and a bag of mini powdered donuts that end up being stale. He eats them anyway.

Kuroo even asks to say hello to Mrs. Odette, but is told she was still asleep. Wasn’t feeling to good, she can feel the weather in her bones, he said. Kuroo lets him off after promising to have Mr. Odette tell his wife he misses her.

The two of them talk for a little while longer; the only other person in the shop is the gloomy part time help. They only acknowledge Kenma with a small nod before walking to the opposite end of the store, like they were going out of their way to avoid him and Kuroo. He doesn’t take much mind of it, and fits another donut in his mouth, hoping to get back home soon, because he really could stand to wash his face at least. But a hot shower doesn’t sound too bad either. He wouldn’t mind letting last night go down the drain forever.

Kenma finds himself drifting off, daydreaming about battles where he’s invincible and a hero. Hated by many, admired by all. He’s a good person in his daydreams, he’s a somebody there. But when he comes out of it he realizes he’s still a nobody- and too far off from becoming a somebody.

He’s brought out of it by Kuroo, who laughs loudly once, patting his hand on Kenma’s back to guide him towards the door, handing him his coffee and waving goodbye to the owner. By now it’s lukewarm at best, but Kenma takes a grateful sip anyways.

“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.” The bell at the top of the door jingles when he opens the door, holding it for Kuroo to step out.

Kuroo shakes his head. “Kenma, it was like a dollar fifty. Chill, I got this.”

 “Yea, but you got the donuts, too.” Kenma falls into step with Kuroo now, walking at his pace.

“God, okay, like three dollars total.” Kuroo sets the palm of his hand on top of Kenma’s head. “If you insist on paying me back, then talk to me more.”

“Okay, but I meant like money.”

“I can’t hear you.” Kuroo says with a knowing smirk, taking long strides ahead of Kenma to hide it. Kenma smiles to himself as well, feeling alright- feeling better.

And then he catches Kuroo looking at him. He probably thinks he’s being inconspicuous, but Kenma notices almost immediately, and tries to ignore it, but Kuroo almost starts making a point of looking towards him. He doesn’t look… worried, like Kenma would figure, but like he’s trying to read his emotions, his thoughts. He looks more like he wished he could read minds, but Kenma curses the idea and it makes his bones shake at the thought of having his best- his _only_ \- friend know just how much he keeps from him.

“What do you want?” Kenma forces a fake annoyed look towards Kuroo, arching a brow and pointing at him with his already half empty coffee. “Stop looking at me, you’re creeping me out.”

“Sorry, you’re just so beautiful.” Kuroo says, with his ever present grin and moves to the other side of Kenma, between him and the road. It’s probably a subconscious movement, one he doesn’t even realize he’s made because it’s like second nature to him to do so.

“Ugh.” Kenma sticks out his tongue, like he’s spitting out the affection Kuroo tries to shove down his throat, “Save it for your boyfriend.” But he appreciates it, like he appreciates everything Kuroo does for him.

“Trust me, I will.” Kuroo shoves his hands in his pockets, letting what he’s said about the matter hang and settle between them. He’s taking long strides that Kenma finds almost laughably exaggerated, but reality is Kenma’s just got short legs and he’s being bitter about the fact.

It grows quiet between them, and he can feel Kuroo’s got questions upon questions building up inside him, it looks like they’re gonna make him burst. Cause him to split at the seams and run in rivulets onto the ground, but Kuroo keeps his mouth shut, and again- Kenma finds himself thinking for what seems like the billionth time today alone- _I appreciate it_.

Kenma will answer the questions, but not right now. Later. Right now, the quiet is content because it’s not silence, and Kenma knows when there’s just too much for words, the quiet will say it for him. Right now, he can’t answer anything Kuroo wants to ask him, and he understands. And, god, Kenma appreciates it.

“I’m hungry.” Kuroo whines. He puts his arm around Kenma’s shoulder in what would normally have been a friendly-overly friendly- gesture, but again Kenma’s thoughts go bleak and he wonders if it’s so Kuroo can confirm to himself that Kenma is here, right there. Palpable, touchable, soft and hard and annoyed like always, but there and he is and Kuroo doesn’t feel tense, so it’s okay.

Kenma holds up the bag of donuts, half eaten  despite being stale. They were the mini kinds, that usually only come in powdered or chocolate covered and he picked out a bag that ended up having a mix of the two, only to have picked out most of the powdered ones for himself. Kuroo digs in the bag and pulls out an entire handful, which amounts to only about 6, but he shoves half of what’s in his hand into his mouth.

He’s got chocolate on his knuckles and powder under his nails and on the corners of his mouth and Kuroo tries to talk but instead he breathes in too fast and he gets powder and partly chewed donut chunks down his throat and he hacks, coughing hard, and spitting the contents onto the sidewalk.

Kenma scoffs, handing Kuroo the last of his coffee, and he laughs. He laughs at what a lie appearances can be, because up until Kuroo shoved 2 chocolate and 1 powdered donut into his mouth and then coughed them all back out, he _almost_ looked cool. He always _almost_ looks cool, but somehow he always shatters the image he _almost_ builds for himself, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so Kenma doesn’t mind either.

Kuroo takes the coffee gratefully, swallowing so hard Kenma can hear it.

Kuroo coughs again, giving Kenma the empty coffee. “Dude.”

“Dude.”

“I’m dyin’, Kenma.”

“You drank it all on me.”

Kuroo is still crouched over the sidewalk, hands on his knees, head hung. He’s so MUCH, Kenma is reminded.

“Kenma, please,” Kuroo coughs in exaggeration, completely over his clear near death experience and takes Kenma by the arm, “I leave Tsukki in your hands.”

“God, **_no_**.” Kenma yanks his arm out of Kuroo’s grip. “I like Tsukishima but not to the extent he clearly gets from you, and frankly the thought of even trying is disturbing.”

“D’aww.” Kuroo stands to his full height and presses a hand to Kenma’s head, “Dat’s just cuz wittle Kenma-“ Kenma starts walking again before Kuroo can even TRY to finish.

“You seem to be fine.”

“Why were you laughing at my pain.” Kuroo demands to know, rather than ask.

“Because,” Kenma says, “It was funny.”

Kuroo treads behind a few steps, unsure of how to take it, but quickly catches up and drapes his arm across Kenma’s shoulders again.

“I’m gonna put pineapple on all the pizza’s.” He threats.

“Kuroo, I swear-” Kenma starts, giving Kuroo an equally threatening look, “I will disown you.”

“I’m not your son.”

“No, you’re my fucking uncle, god.” Kenma gives him a disgusted look “If you put pineapple on even ONE of those pizzas I will kick you OUT of my house.”

“Shit, alright, god DAMN,” Kuroo holds his hands up, palms out, “I won’t put pineapple on the pizza.”

Kenma gives him a wary look, like he doesn’t believe him, but decides he has no choice because he has no money to pay for his own. Ah, the life of a college student.

Like he’s read his mind Kuroo asks him about it.

“How’s college or whatever doing?”

Kenma takes in a sharp breath, not surprised, but like he wasn’t quite ready for the question and he guesses Kuroo’s put out the easiest one of the many he’s got to answer first.

“It’s…” Kenma steps on a leaf left by fall that crunches to his satisfactory. “Okay.” He answers slowly, unsure of what to say besides _‘Okay.’_

“Is it okay, or is it _okay_?” Kuroo asks, differently stressing the second okay that gives them each different meanings and Kenma understands, and he has an answer but he just shrugs, feeling like if he says anymore he’d upset Kuroo somehow. Disappoint him, somehow, but how that would be possible after everything he’s done in his life is beyond Kenma. Kuroo pushes further, still.

“It’s… You know. I haven’t been regularly in a while. I’d be surprised if anyone remembered me by how infrequently I actually go.” Kenma shrugs again, like _‘that’s that.’_ And it is, but it doesn’t feel like enough to say.

Kuroo is quiet again, like he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s already thought, and he doesn’t have anything to say. But of course he does, because he always does. Because if Kuroo is good at one thing, it’s giving his two cents and sticking his nose into other people’s business. Kenma doesn’t dislike that about him, but Kenma doesn't find himself thinking about how pleasant it is right now. 

“Do you not like it?” Kuroo asks, keeping pace with Kenma now. “Like, are you being picked on, or-“

“No, Kuroo.” Kenma interrupts him. “It’s not middle school, it’s just.” Kenma shrugs, knowing he interrupted Kuroo for no reason now, because he doesn’t have a rebuttal. “I don’t know.”

“Do you like going?”

“Mmm.” Kenma has to think. “I like some of it.”

“Like what?”

Kenma has to think about it again, and he thinks, and thinks, and feels his thoughts leak out his ears and he’s left with nothing to offer, and all he can come up with is “I just do.”

“Alright.” Kuroo accepts. “Then what _don’t_ you like about it?”

“Assignments?” Kenma guesses more than states, and remembers he has one he hasn’t even started that was probably due last week and wonders if the professor accepts late work. Kuroo laughs, but it sounds more like a snort because it was through his nose.

“No one likes assignments, though, Ken.”  

“Then… I don’t know. It’s cold in some of the rooms.” He sighs, exasperated. “I don’t know! Why?”

Kuroo shrugs this time. “Just wondering if you’re going properly.”

“Nope.”

“Will you start?”

“Should I?” Kenma looks at him like this is a challenge.

“Yes.” Kuroo looks back, making it a battle.

A battle Kenma loses. “Alright, alright.” He tosses his empty cup into a garbage bin they finally pass and puts his hand in his pocket. “I’ll go again starting next week.”

Kuroo looks like he wants to argue but decides against it, settling on _next week_.

Kenma stills, so Kuroo does too. He’s staring at the bridge. More accurately, at the person standing there. He’s leaning on his elbows on the railing, looking into the water that sends shivers up Kenma’s spine.

“Who’s…” Kuroo trails off, leaning down a little, so his head is at Kenma’s level and he’s looking at the guy too. He’s got on a black sweatshirt that zips up but it’s so big on him he’s swimming in it, and it hangs down past the middle of his thighs, reaching near his knees. The sleeves look like they were at one point bunched up at his elbows, but it’s covering his hands now, holding a phone. His hair is far too bright to be looked at directly under the sun, and he can’t see properly, but Kenma is sure that if he were to be able to, his eyes would be captivating and mysterious and familiar.

“I think…” Kenma starts, swallowing and wringing his hands together, “He’s the guy from… last night… when I was…” He tries to string together words but can’t seem to spit them out but thankfully Kuroo understands and nods.

“Truthfully, I’m kind of jealous.” Kuroo squints at him, trying to figure out if he knows him, but comes to the conclusion he doesn’t. He must’ve felt himself being stared at because he looks up, looks around, and locks eyes with Kenma, looks around one more time, but by the time he tries to look at him again, Kenma has looked away.

“What are you jealous over?”

“You’ll let some stranger talk to you, but not me?” Kuroo doesn’t mean for it to be a jab, but it is anyway and it pierces his stomach and twists around, and settles as guilt inside of him.

Kenma doesn’t have time to feel guilty though, because Kuroo is already on his way towards the stranger who may have saved Kenma’s life. “Let’s go talk to him!” Kenma is clapped once on the back and forced to take steps toward the confused boy with orange hair and eyes that seem to glow.

“Hey there!” Kuroo says, sauntering over to the kid, who looks more confused than nervous like he should, because Kuroo towers over him and his smile that Kenma recognizes as genuine others think of as mocking.

“Hi? Hello?” The kid looks at Kuroo, then Kenma, then Kuroo again.

“You _were_ staring at me, then?”

“I wasn’t staring.” Kenma interjects, not meaning to speak up, but he does.

“ _He_ was _especially_ staring.” Kuroo corrects.

“I- oh. Thank you?” The kid gives a perplexed look but Kuroo strikes up conversation.

“Are you hungry?”

The kid lights up, and nods, like he hadn’t eaten anything in years.

Kuroo laughs and speaks again. “You wanna come over? We’re short one guy. I ordered pizza.”

And Kenma isn’t sure who’s stupider. Kuroo, who invited a _total stranger_ to his house that Kenma isn’t even sure may be the _right_ stranger, or the _total stranger_ who accepted a _total strangers_ invitation to **_a total strangers_** house. 

“Is it really alright?” The kid asks.

“Sure! Don’t worry about it, it isn’t even my house!” The kid doesn’t seem to understand if it’s a joke or not but he catches Kenma’s wary look at frowns, maybe he’s picked up at his discomfort. But Kuroo will have _none of that_ , and even Kenma finds it creepy when he takes him by the arm and starts dragging him towards the house.

He brightens up quickly though. He chatters, and he talks a lot. Kenma decides though, that if animals could talk, he would be a bird. He’s not at all unpleasant to listen to, so that’s what he does. He lets him and Kuroo talk, and he listens, except he doesn’t listen that well to what he’s saying, it’s how he says it that gets Kenma. He can’t put his finger on it, but the way the words form on his tongue and slip through his teeth is... _charming_. He can't think of a word that better fits what he's trying to describe so he has to settle on _charming_. 

He looks back at Kenma, who ended up falling about a step or two behind in his efforts to remain quiet, and he frowns again. “Do I know you?”

Kenma makes another decision. Yes, those are the same eyes from the night before,and yes, this is the same boy.

“Maybe.” Is all Kenma offers.

They’re halfway to Kenma’s house now, and the kid is beaming at Kuroo, like he’s the most impressive thing he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. Tsukishima is just arriving when they do, and he waves a little, first at Kuroo, then looks behind him to see Kenma and gives him a worried look. Kenma smiles, just a little bit, and Tsukishima gets the hint. He then notices the kid now linked his arm through Kuroo’s and Kenma wonders if he sees a sort of jealousy flash through his eyes.

“Who’s the kid?”

He looks offended, and Kenma wonders if it was wrong of him to think of the kid- him- as one. “I am _not_ -“

“Shrimpy here is gonna have some pizza with us.”

“Shrimp-“

“Okay, but who is he.” Tsukishima nearly demands, sending him daggers that Kenma can practically see prick the stranger, warning him not to interrupt and he doesn’t.

“He’s…” Kuroo’s voice trails off, realizing just now he doesn't know the name of the guy he's picked up. “Hungry!”

“God, did you just pick him up off the street or something?” Tsukishima scoffs, but it goes quiet and Kenma finds the situation funny to watch. Tsukishima’s face goes from distaste, to surprise, to horror.

“Kuroo.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Put him back where you found him.”

“He’s gonna chill with us.”

“Okay, but why do I feel like you’re the one who decided to invite him to Kenma’s house.”

They all look back at Kenma, who tries to wipe the smile growing on his face. “I’m- No, he’s fine!”

Tsukishima looks almost uneasy, eyeing him up and down and up and down. “If we’re all murdered I just want it on record that NONE of this was on me.”

He steps up the few stairs leading to Kenma’s front door and Kuroo bounds up beside him, taking two steps at a time and presses his hand against Tsukishima’s waist, pulling him closer while he tries to unlock the door with Kenma’s spare. Tsukishima pushes him off, smoothing out his shirt. Kenma can’t hear much of it, but he’s pretty sure he hears Kuroo say something about Tsukishima’s ass and Kenma is grateful he can’t.

Kenma doesn’t realize until he’s directly in front of his own apartment, but it’s snowing. It doesn’t look like it’s gonna stick, but Kenma figures that even if it doesn’t- he looks up to the sky- it’s still nice to be reminded that clouds have heartbeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know the drill and shit. Comment if you liked it or think you could offer any suggestions towards improvement, i love hearing from you guys!!
> 
> imagines tumblr: imagination-haikyuu.tumblr.com  
> main: youprobablysmellbad.tumblr.com
> 
> thx for reading !


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